


SDCC Hookup - Trying to Avoid the Con

by fresne



Series: SDCC Hookup [7]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, SDCC, SDCC2013, San Diego Comic-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:33:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fresne/pseuds/fresne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna Noble had temped at enough secret societies to know Mycroft Holmes type. Still, as long as she was finally on an adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wednesday - What's a Comic Con?

**Author's Note:**

> This series is a set of interconnected stories for various fandom's mainly to hook up various pairings at San Diego Comic Con (SDCC). Each story will follow one pairing within the overall series. There turned out to be a overlapping storyline, but shouldn't need to read all the stories to get the fairly simplistic plot.
> 
> This is possibly the closest thing to a WIP that I've ever posted. And while SDCC is over, and I've finished (three days after the fact) the stories, it's still the rawest, post as I went, story I've ever done with fairly minimal editing. 
> 
> I'll (hopefully) be looping back to deal with that soon. In the meantime, take the rawness as being to a degree how SDCC feels like. A mad rush.
> 
> Largely if a fandom is modern day, generally speaking characters can show up. Largely, because I reserved the right to arbitrarily keep a few fandoms to be fandoms characters could talk about/visit panels for.
> 
>  
> 
> And just so you know, in this universe both Wormhole X-Treme and Firefly ran for 10 years. What, it's my universe.
> 
>  
> 
> This is an AU setting. Donna was almost a sacrificial bride, but she didn't try to find the Doctor again, which she tells herself she doesn't regret. 
> 
> To mix things up a bit, since I was already planning on AUing Sherlock, I somewhat AUed Mycroft into working for one-to-many secret societies sworn all the long years of his families existence to prevent the old ones returning while still maintaining their sanity rolls. The deleting memories thing, it's a necessity of being a Holmes.
> 
> May the hookup begin.

She pedaled the bicycle with grim determination. When she'd rented it for getting around in San Diego, she'd imagined herself jauntily riding along the white sandy beach. In her imagination, she'd looked a little like Audrey Hepburn in "Funny Face". Audrey Hepburn had been in Funny Face hadn't she? That was a real movie, wasn't it? She glared at the industrial buildings, which were what she had to ride through if she wanted to go to the beach on Coronado island.

She wheeled past a real hotel, which for some reason she hadn't had the wit to make a reservation in. Oh, no. Donna was going to be clever. Donna Noble was going to go on an adventure on the cheap. Her mum, had told her that it would all end in tears. 

It was not going to end in tears. It simply wasn't. She was not going to listen to the voice of her Mum in her head telling her that she was thirty-mumble years old and what the hell was a Comic-Con. 

She stopped her lumbering ride in front of the San Diego Convention Center. There were blue banners hung all over the Convention Center, which in photos had looked vaguely like the Sydney Opera House, but in reality looked like someone had stuck some sails on top of a big building, but which Donna had grimly written her Mum in a post card looked just like the Sydney Opera House and she was having a fabulous time.

One of the workers stringing the banners grinned down at her. "Geek hordes should show up any moment now. Press is already here."

"What?" Donna glared up at him.

He climbed down from his ladder. "It's going to be a mad house. Almost 200 hundred thousand people."

"What?" She crossed her arms and then uncrossed them, because the bright red sunburn on her right arm did not make her arms want to touch anything.

"Yeah, Miss, if you're visiting, I wouldn't come back downtown until it's over on Sunday." The man folded up his ladder to move it a few feet down.

"Do I look like a Miss to you?" She looked down at her jaunty yellow shirt and her jaunty capri pants, which were sadly the worse for wear after her hell inspired bicycle ride. "Do I look like a tourist?"

The man just laughed. "Great people watching though." He climbed back up his ladder and unrolled another blue banner. "Good luck."

"Good luck!" He wasn't watching her now. He was ignoring her. She was being ignored. The story of this trip. She set off again. There were signs everywhere. Had there been signs this morning. She couldn't be sure. This morning, she'd been full of grim determination to actually make it to a beach where she could clap her hands and say, "Oi, give me another drink," and receive a fruity drink with an umbrella. Although, as it had turned out she'd had to walk to the beach bar and had ended up with sand in her drink, which had tasted like fruit punch. It had been sickly sweet and why had anyone come up with a fruit punch drink?

She wrote the today's post card in her her head. "Dear Mum, having a fabulous time. Had drinks at the beach and met someone, who had the next chair over." She hadn't, but there was nothing wrong with lying on a post card. She entertained herself by imagining her tall, handsome someone all the way back to the hell dock where she was staying. 

She locked up her rented rust bucket bicycle and told herself that this was much better than staying in Costa Del Sol, where they'd just had a run on bird-flu or Turkey, which was having riots. She had simply picked to visit San Diego the same week millions of insane people were showing up to talk about Comic books. She stomped down the dock. She crossed her arms and uncrossed them because that sunburn really did hurt. But, she was glaring. Oh, yes, she was glaring. She was giving the entire marina a death glare of doom. The brochure had promised her that her that the quaint charm of staying on a boat in the San Diego marina would make her vacation like no other.

"It's not like any other vacation." She stomped up the ramp managing not to fall to her death by no particular assistance from the sodding moored in the dock boat. She grimaced as the stench from the boat's toilet, which for some reason had to be called a "head". Clearly Maintenance, who had made such a fuss about calling it a Head had not bothered to come by during the day to fix the sodding toilet.

She considered her options. She'd already spent a good deal of yesterday yelling at the personnel in the rental office, which had gotten her three free days of a stay at the rental yacht of her choice. She ducked into the back "bedroom" where she had been sleeping as far away from the Toilet as she could get. She quoted the brochure. "You'll think it's bigger on the inside." She started shoving clothes at random into her suitcase. "It's bigger on the inside because half of it is under water. Green mucky water." She hauled her suitcase up the stairs, banging against her legs the entire way.

She was not spending another minute on this hell ship.

She was going to stay in a proper hotel, like the one next door to the Marina, and tomorrow she'd go somewhere else, because she was on an adventure. She'd promised herself that she'd finally have an adventure, and three days into her trip and she'd had her luggage lost and found, yelled at some rental agency staff, and gotten burned on a beach. "Not my idea of an adventure."

She went into the hotel and put her credit card down on the registration desk. "I want a room."

"Miss, do you have a reservation?" The day old whippet of a woman behind the desk smiled at her.

Donna snarled. "Do I look like a Miss to you? And yes, I have a reservation at a hell ship in the Marina, which is why I want to sleep here."

"I'm sorry, but we don't have any vacancies." She smiled again, which made no sense because there was no reason to smile over something like that. "The San Diego Comic Con is starting today and we're fully booked.

Donna considered spending the next thirty minutes yelling at the woman, but decided her time was better spent going into the hotel bar.

Which was packed. There wasn't a single free table in the place. At every table, there were people in t-shirt's that declared, "Stand Back, I'm about to do Science" or "Going Boldly" or, she did not care. She wanted a drink and she wanted to sit down. She decided with grim determination that she was going to get to sit down. She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed and sunburn be damned.

She glared at two men sitting at a small table in back of the room. They didn't even have drinks. At least the other people in the room had drinks. They were taking up a table having a domestic and not drinking. She waited. She checked her watch. She waited. In all fairness, the taller ginger haired man was drinking a club soda, but the overly dramatic drama queen in the drama queen coat with his floppy hair and razor sharp cheekbones that could use a sandwich wasn't drinking a single thing.

She waited some more. She twenty minutes waited.

She was done with waiting.

"Oi, you with the coat. Either order the sandwich that you so desperately need and stop arguing with your brother or make room at a table for someone who actually wants to make an order.'

Both men turned to look at her. The Ginger said, "What makes you think we're brothers?" He smiled. 

She did not trust that smile. She did not trust his posh voice that reminded her of home and all the jobs that she hadn't gotten. "I can tell family members who are arguing."

Floppy hair narrowed his eyes. He said, "You're a temporary secretary from Chiswick. You've never held a position for more than three months. You live with your mother and your... grandfather. You've decided to take all of your savings and go on a trip to Sunny California on a boat with a broken toilet. You're 38, but claim to be 35, and always fill in ten pounds less that your actual weight on any form."

His look clearly indicated that she was supposed to be crushed under the awesome weight of his awesome knowledge about her, but she was not impressed. No, Donna Noble was made of sterner stuff. 

"And since I'm already me, I happen to know all of that already." Donna scoffed. "And it's human nature to lie on forms. If someone is going to hand me a form that I don't actually want to fill out to tell them information that they have no business knowing, then I'm going to tell them the truth as I see it, which is a good sight better than actual truth." 

She took a chair from a table with some love birds cooing and sat down. "But since you already know all about me, it's as if we know each other, so I'm sitting down and getting a drink." She waved at the waitress. "Miss. Miss." She took great pleasure in saying the word, "I'd like a Dark and Stormy, and it had better have an umbrella."

Floppy hair glared at her. Sprawled back in his chair in a dramatic fashion. Then lept up in a dramatic fashion. He said to his brother. "I'm not doing it. I refuse." Then he flipped up the collar of his coat and stormed off in a dramatic fashion. 

She said, "That means he'll do it after he sulks a bit. Was he always that much of a drama queen?"

"Always." The other man was still smiling. "You have a bit of a temper yourself."

"Oi, one comment about red heads," she waved a finger at him and tried to ignore the fact that she'd chipped her nail, "and the drink I don't have will go on you head."

He gestured at his bit of ginger hair. "I'm hardly in a position to talk."

She accepted that and since she felt like she should add something. "Your brother clearly dyes his hair."

The other Man's smile grew a little more real. "You noticed that."

She scoffed. "I'd have to be blind not to. Anyway, I temped at a beauty supply factory. The stories I could tell you." She glanced down at the leather bound folder in front of the man with its gold embossed symbol on the front. "I see you could tell me horror stories too." She tapped the symbol with her chipped and she didn't care fingernail. "I temped at HC Clements." He was staring through her again. "Torchwood. You know." She waggled both hands in the air in a meaningful way.

He did not fidget with his leather folder. He did not sip from his drink. He stared at her. "How unexpectedly interesting. That does not happen very often."

"You've just met me. So you don't know that I'm always interesting." She certainly intended to interesting. The Dark and Stormy appeared before her. She toasted in the air. "Donna Noble. Not that I don't expect you won't have a report on me in about an hour." She took another drink. "Your type always do. When I temped with the Templar Knights, the Grand Marshal gave me a copy." She sighed. "God, it was a boring."

"Hmmm..." He held out his hand. "Mycroft Holmes. I have a minor position in a small non-profit organization." He had a nice handshake. The hold was firm. His palms were dry. She put a lot of store in dry palms.

"Right, you lot secretly run the world." She drank some more. "I'm guessing," he winced, because his sort would wince at guesses, "your little non profit keep the Old ones from rising. My ex-was cheating on me with an Old one. I was almost almost a bride sacrifice." She looked down and her drink was gone and she shouldn't order another one, because then she'd be drunk and homeless. So she ordered another one. "I expect that's the reason the world is in such bad shape." She paused. "The secret society secretly running the world, not my giant spider dating ex." She paused again. "You have no idea what a relief it is to talk about him. My giant spider dating ex. I miss him sometimes."

"No idea." His smile shifted again. "It has been a pleasure." He picked up his folder and shook her hand again. He had a really nice handshake. Firm and dry and she really shouldn't have downed that drink so fast.

She was staring out the wide windows at the hell spawn marina when the whippet from the front desk tottered over on high heels. "Miss. Miss."

"Do I look like a... fine what?" Donna twirled the pink paper parasol from her drink between her fingers.

"There's been an opening." Donna stared at the woman. "We have a room available. If you'd still like it."

Donna was sunburned. She hadn't slept more than a few hours what with the sewage smell and the lumpy mattress tucked into the larger room on the inside yacht. She was halfway through a second rum drink. She was not however an idiot. Not ten minutes after talking to a secret society type and she had tottering whippets offering her rooms. If she took it, then she'd owe Secret Society something. 

"Wizard. I'll take it." She was not putting up with one more night of that charming hell yacht.

She looked around the room until she spotted the security camera. She toasted it. "Cheers."


	2. Thursday - Breakfast

Donna stretched out on her absolutely wizard bed. She wriggled her toes in her absolutely wizard sheets. She rolled over so could try one of the other pillows. She'd ordered the entire selection from the hotel's complimentary pillow menu.

She wrote a draft of today's postcard. "Dear Mum...." That was as far as she got. Since she'd said the yacht was fabulous, she couldn't quite see how she could explain the upgrade to an absolutely wizard room with a wonderful bed and wide television. "Dear Mum, went to the beach and struck up a conversation with someone tall, ginger and not particularly not handsome, but with a really nice handshake and the power to get me a fabulous hotel room in a completely booked hotel." That was rubbish. Absolute rubbish. 

She rolled over again onto the buckwheat pillow for inspiration.

There was a knock at the door. Donna forced herself to part from her sheets, and after tightening the belt on her robe, opened the door. There was a young woman who had a blackberry surgically attached to her hand. "Who the hell are you?"

Ms. Blackberry didn't even glance up. "Mrs. Noble, please come with me." 

"Look. It's the bill." Donna closed the door in Ms. Blackberry's face. She briefly petted the plush material of her robe. She opened the door again. "Fine. Wait over there. I'm having a shower first."

Ms. Blackberry was looking up now with an amused expression. "Mrs. Noble, you need to," 

"What I need is to take a shower." Donna pointed at Ms. Blackberry with her show nothing expression. "You might want to have a seat. I'll be shaving my legs."

Donna did shave her legs. She also shaved her armpits. She used the complimentary shampoo, which was made with silk. She used the complimentary conditioner. She used the complimentary body wash. She flung the towels on the floor so they could be washed while she was out.

She decided that blow drying her hair would be a step too far. She considered her shoe choices. Sandals or trainers. 

She put on the trainers. 

Donna Noble was not dressing up for some official at a Secret Society. Actually, when she'd temped at the Society of the Bear, she'd had to wear a robe, which come to think of it wasn't that different from the hotel robe. She wondered if they bought them from the same place.

Ms. Blackberry stared at Donna. "Don't you have anything nicer."

Donna looked down at her perfectly reasonable shirt and shorts. "What is wrong with my outfit." She tried to remember not to grit her teeth, because her dentist had warned her about grinding.

There was a very long moment of silence.

Ms. Blackberry turned and walked out of the room. Donna stood there with her arms crossed. Ms. Blackberry stopped. "There is nothing wrong with your outfit. Would you please follow me?" 

"I would love to." Donna walked with her out to a black SUV. Donna pursed her lips and took a picture of Ms. Blackberry and emailed the picture to Nerys. "In case you're about to kill me and dump my body in a ditch."

Donna climbed into the SUV. "Well! I don't have all day." The SUV went a short distance, which took forever. There were thousands of people in outrageous outfits. There were also people with giant signs telling everyone to repent their sins. In Donna's opinion, she'd like an opportunity to commit a few more sins. But that wasn't the story of her life.

She did have one sin on her mind when the SUV finally pulled up and into a carpark. She was starving. "You expect me to get out in a car park."

Ms. Blackberry raised her eyebrows. 

Donna stalked up across the pavement to where Mycroft had struck an absolutely ridiculous looking pose leaning on his umbrella. It wasn't even raining. They were in bloody California. She said, "We're going to breakfast."

"We are?" He stopped his pose and an actual expression crossed his face. Since he was just going to stand there like a great big lump, she grabbed him by the elbow and towed him to the staircase. He did not resist, so he clearly wanted to have breakfast too.

"I'm hungry and since they don't serve food in a carpark, we're going to the perfectly nice hotel next to the carpark and having breakfast."

The poor dear was trying to take control back of the conversation. She noticed he hadn't stopped walking. "There is a small project that I'd like to discuss with you." 

She flapped her hand at him. "Over breakfast with coffee and it had better not be instant." She turned and briefly glared at him. "We'll work the calories off running. I haven't had many adventures, but I can tell you that they involve a great deal of running."

They emerged into a small street. Donna stopped in front of the door into the hotel and raised her eyebrows. "Well."

Mycroft opened the door for her. She reclaimed his arm as they made their way up the escalator and into a very posh restaurant. The place was full of people in simply amazing outfits for this Comic Con. She couldn't even imagine how the woman in the corset could even move with that many gears attached to her head.

"She uses a crank." Mycroft held out a chair for her.

"Oi, did you just make a joke. Good on you." She patted his hand. "Nice work." 

Mycroft did not laugh, but he did look as if he might crack half of a real smile. 

Donna sighed happily when their waitress brought her a cup of coffee. She drank for a minute. "Now then Secret Overlord, lay it on me?"

Mycroft straightened his fork. "Let's have our breakfast first."

Donna waived down the waitress. "Oi, I'll need a menu." She looked back at Mycroft. "I'm assuming that means this is going to involve a lot of running. Or transcription."

"Not at all." She shouldn't believe a man who had that posh of an accent and that kind of smile. 

As it turned out, there wasn't a great deal of running. 

She wasn't quite sure how a handing some sort of girdle to Diana Prince, who was actually some sort of Princess from an island populated entirely by women, however that worked, ended up with Donna signing them up for a Geek Speed Dating event she'd seen advertised at the hotel. 

She told herself that she was very annoyed, but she went to sleep with a smile on her face.


	3. Friday - Driving

Over a hundred thousand people at this damned convention, most of them men, dozens of parties going on, and just typical all the decent men were somewhere else. It said something that after she left the speed dating event, she ended up going the MTV party with a group of other women. What was saying was nothing good.

It should have been pure wizard. 

It was until a Talking Gorilla, and this couldn't be said enough, a Talking Gorilla, got on stage and ranted a lot of nonsense about turning everyone into monkeys. Really, what kind of a diabolical plan was that?

Now if Mycroft had given her his phone number like a normal person, she could have just called him to tell him that he should consider her hotel room paid in full. Because seriously? Talking. Gorilla.

But no, the genius dunce had to be all mysterious. 

Fortunately, she'd Google stalked him. Mycroft Holmes was not exactly the world's most popular name. She left a voicemail at his small mid-level office with a small non-profit and wasn't he just going to be paying the bill for the roaming on that phone call. "Mycroft, this is exactly what I was talking about. You lot in charge of the world, no wonder it's in such a state that I have to tell you about a Talking Gorilla by voice mail."

She counted to ten, which was about all she had patience for, because the gorilla was getting on her nerves. Then there was a lot of running and an explosion, and Ms. Blackberry to pick up the pieces, which at least showed some level of efficiency.

When finally Mycroft showed up, she walked past him. "I'll be wanting dinner now. I'm starving." 

He said. "I know precisely the place," because he would want the last word.

Donna ordered a steak the size of her head with lobster, because she had almost been killed by a Talking Gorilla. Mycroft picked the wine. The restaurant didn't serve her regular plonk. 

She did not look at the prices. She had almost been killed by a Talking Gorilla.

Mycroft ordered a salad and looked longingly at her steak with an expression that she knew all too well, but there were no calories on a day where she'd almost been killed by a Talking Gorilla.

Not that she was all that concerned about it, but she would take whatever reason she could to be able to enjoy her steak and lobster.

Mycroft stabbed a piece of lettuce with his fork. "Most individuals would be more concerned about what occurred today."

"Bet you have to send your secret society members to classes to get over the shock." Mycroft got this look on his face and she waved a bit of lobster at him before dipping it in butter, because oi, Talking Gorilla. "Ha, I knew it. They do go to class."

He chewed slowly and laughed a snide Secret Overlord I know things laugh. She didn't care for it. 

It suited him, but she wasn't going to be putting up with snide Secret Overlord laughs. She was who she was and no one was going to make her feel bad for being her, not even her mother's voice in her head telling her that maybe she should go easy on the butter or the butter wouldn't go easy on her. "I hated school."

Mycroft lifted his glass briefly. "You would not appear to need the training under the circumstances, and thank you for contacting me." He sipped red wine, because that's what Secret overlord types did. Donna types too. It was good wine. 

"Yeah," she shrugged, knowing that her makeup might be smudged, but her little black dress made her chest look enormous. "When I was a little girl, the bogeyman jumped out from under my bed and I clocked him with a my wooden Clara doll. Cracked her head. Cracked his head. Never bothered me again."

"Ah." Mycroft had another sip of wine. "And why is it that you think your life is boring?"

She had a bite of meat to make time for an answer, but she already knew what she wanted to say. "Because nothing I do has any meaning." She pushed another bite of meat around on her plate, because her stomach really wasn't the size of her head.

"If you are looking for a life of meaning, then I can offer you an opportunity. There may be risks." Mycroft tilted an eyebrow at her. She met his eyes and was caught in the vision of what her life could be like.

Donna also looked at Mycroft sitting prim across the table and thought, "If I leave this up to him, we're going to be having unresolved sexual tension for the next thirty years." Her next thought was unexpectedly fierce. "I'm tired of being unresolved." She wanted to be Donna Noble, the woman on this adventure.

She slid into the chair next to Mycroft, because there was no reason to be uncomfortable, and if she did this across the table, she'd get food on her dress and she'd paid good money for it. 

Mycroft's said, "Ms. Noble, is there," that's as far as she let him get. She grabbed him by his overly starched labels and snogged him for all she was worth.

She would say this for him. He was fast on the uptake. It took less that the blink of an eye for him to kiss her back. Like his handshake, he kissed exactly right. Neither too wet and soppy, which she couldn't stand, and exactly firm enough with his hands on her shoulders as if he had her exactly where he wanted her, which was fine, because she had him exactly where she wanted him. After a bit, she pulled away and said, "You can call me Donna." She squeezed his knee. "Now pay the bill so we can leave."

Swift on the uptake, his eyes only widened slightly and within a three minutes they were out the door and getting into one of those black windowed cars of his that made her feel like a movie star. But swift on the uptake meant that that big squishy brain of his was already churning. She could already see all the reasons this was a bad idea forming themselves neatly into paragraphs that he'd use to tie her up in reasons. She hated reasons. 

She took that big brain in her hands and kissed the reasons out of him. Outside on the street, people were yelling and singing, and up front behind darkened glass, there was a man in a black suit driving them down that busy street, and Donna Noble was the woman who was on this adventure. She shoved the bespoke jacket off of him, which was more awkward than it looked in the movies and she whacked her hand against the door and she didn't care. She was thankful that her dress had a wide skirt as she crawled into his lap on the thick black leather seat and kissed paragraphs out of him. Slid off his tie and unbuttoned the starched white shirt off him. 

She felt him repurpose all the focus of that big Secret Overlord brain into sliding her dress over her head and it hadn't been too expensive after all. She had a moment to feel a bit embarrassed, because she had a pouch on her belly and her thighs were more than a bit thick. Mycroft sighed and it wasn't snide or knowing. He said, "I have been on a diet for almost twenty years." Foreheads together, they sat a moment. He tilted her head and kissed her. 

They must be driving in circles through the crowds and she didn't care. She cared that it was a good deal more difficult to get a man's trousers and pants off than it was to get off a shirt. Donna Noble was the woman on this adventure, and Mycroft was a Genius Secret World Overlord. Between them, they managed. Because Donna was not an eighteen year old virgin, she had three condoms in her purse, although she almost broke her back twisting down to get the damn thing. The really pathetic fumble to get the thing on him, but between them, they managed. 

Managed and she pushed down and she had to wonder if he'd calculated this angle, because her breasts were exactly at the right height for his mouth, and then told herself not to be stupid, of course, he'd calculated. Plotted out the way the start and stop of the car in traffic pushed him harder into her. She laughed into his mouth when they first drove over a series of traffic stops and then a great lumping traffic bump. "Not bad Overlord."

He pushed up as they reached the next traffic bump. "I aim to please." Since he was a genius, she came twice before she felt him arch back a little and for a moment, just a moment, he stopped thinking altogether.

Putting themselves together afterwards was even more awkward than taking themselves apart, but Donna did not regret a thing.

The car pulled up to her hotel. She towed him out of the car after her. "Come on Overlord. You have to see the bed in my room."

He smiled, tie gone and his hair all ruffled. "I do?"

"Yeah, you do." He didn't exactly resist as she pulled him to the elevator.

Since he would have to have the last word, Mycroft said, "It would be my pleasure."


	4. Saturday - Decadent Dessert

Donna opened one eye to find Mycroft watching her. She opened both eyes and propped herself up on one elbow. "If while I've been sleeping, you've bought my building so in a month I'll find myself evicted and just have to move in with you, I will hit you with this pillow."

Mycroft looked shifty. 

"What!" She sat up fully and delivered on her threat. They were both a little too old for a pillow fight, and Mycroft was several times too serious, but given that last night they'd both been too tired for more than a bit of a cuddle and sleep, Donna gave up on bludgeoning him with a pillow and let him get her where she wanted him.

By the time they did get out of bed, it was late morning, which was about as long as Mycroft could stand to not secretly try to organize the world. 

Donna had lunch with Ms. Blackberry, who had a name, but since the woman was only going to lie to Donna about it, Donna couldn't be bothered to remember her fake name. Princess Di showed up looking as perfect as she had the night before. Diana said, "I see that you celebrated our victory as well, Donna the Noble." Charlie was wearing last night's suit. She looked like she'd had a good night.

Ms. Blackberry stabbed her fingers at her blackberry in a manner that said that she had not gotten any last night and instead had to spend the entire evening processing paperwork for a Talking Gorilla. Served her right for letting a secret society take away her name and give her a number, or some such nonsense. 

Abby showed up about halfway through lunch because there was a zombie walk going on, which for some reason had Charlie squealing. Diana was interested in seeing people pretend to be zombies, while Ms. Blackberry looked like she'd been assigned to be Donna's new best friend despite the fact that she hadn't had more than an hour of sleep. Donna was tempted to go along just to torture her, but she'd much rather sit in the window watching the whole world parade by the restaurant where they were sitting. 

Donna did the talking. Ms. Blackberry did the reporting on the entire conversation if it could be called that, and possibly ordering people killed.

They walked to a dessert place listed in Donna's guidebook, which was a bit of a walk, but that meant Donna worked off enough calories to eat a Death by Chocolate Raspberry cream thing. Ms. Blackberry picked at a complicated caramel thing. 

Donna bought one for Mycroft. He should have a complicated dessert.

That evening when Ms. Blackberry meandered her to meet Mycroft on the not particularly uncrowded marina down from the Convention Center, because Donna certainly wasn't going to a carpark again, he looked at the pink box as if she'd handed him a worm. She leaned up and whispered something she'd read and wished she'd had more opportunities to live by. With all he knew, if he didn't know it, then it was time he learned. "Sex burns calories." She winked at him in a way she'd always thought to be particularly saucy and handed him the box.

He took it.

Really, if he was going to fake get her evicted from her flat so the only logical thing to do was move in with him, they were going to have to stop this salad nonsense.


End file.
